


Currents

by PetrichorPerfume



Series: Amens in Amber [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 15, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Inspired by Poetry, Loss of Faith, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e03 The Rupture, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Season/Series 15, icarus - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-18 18:40:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21281405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorPerfume/pseuds/PetrichorPerfume
Summary: Faith is a delicate thing. Castiel had learned the art of doubting from Dean Winchester, but God's betrayal has him questioning everything he's ever held sacred.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Amens in Amber [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1527551
Kudos: 11





	Currents

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This work is part of a series but can stand alone. 
> 
> This is a slightly different take on the first part of this series, one that has Castiel walking away for different reasons. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> P.S. I am doing NaNoWriMo this year so expect more fic coming your way!

Excerpt of Currents

(from Leonardas Andriekus’ ‘Amens in Amber’)

Lord, as the roar of holy rhythms

Rushes upon me,

The road’s small stone becomes kin,

The farthest stars

Grow

Kin-close

My broken wings

Heal –

I discover new strength in wings.

Faith was a delicate thing, its waxen wings having the uncanny habit of burning up, and burning out, under the light of any serious scrutiny.

When he had been assigned on a mission to Hell, he had been burning with righteous fury. God was calling on him, of all angels, to right the wrongs of demons and humans alike. His blood had sung with the sweet, sweet tang of war, and victory had been seemed close at hand with every battle, every skirmish; each day was glorious in its own right, bathed as it was in the light of his bloodlust and his devotion and his faith.

A thousand futures unfolded along the path of his life, shining bright among those years in Hell. As his brothers and sisters fell around him on the fields of war as they again laid siege to Hell, and were again thwarted, he rose through the ranks, and his future seemed brighter still. He began to hope. To dream.

He’d never thought his faith would lead to so much folly, those thousand-fold futures being whittled to a point with each and every passing day until he was left with just one – the one in which he, Castiel, Angel of Thursday, laid one shining hand on Dean Winchester and sang out for all of Heaven to hear that he was saved.

It wasn’t until he met the man that Castiel began to question everything. His leaders. His place in their plan. His faith. Even his God. Those hopes he’d harbored for so long were revealed in dawn’s light as the hollow, bitter lies they were. His faith faltered. His dreams were transformed into doubt. His place in the Heavens seemed so very small, in the aftermath of it all.

And now?

Now, he realized that it had all been a beautiful lie, a sleight of hand that had looked enough like the truth to convince even him, even after all his doubt and the slow, steady loss of his faith.

Everything had happened exactly as it had been written, and he – he’d fallen for it all.

What was real, what was a blatant lie?

What could he put his trust in, and what was a mere trick?

He was leaving because he had no choice. He was walking away from the only home he’d ever wanted, not because he was forsaking the only family he’d ever known, but because he simply couldn’t be sure – how much of what he held as truth would burn away in dawn’s pale light, and what exactly, would be left with?

And Dean, bless his broken soul, did not speak, did not move to stop him.

They’d once harbored the same dreams. Surely, they were having the same doubts.

_Let the morning come,_ Castiel thought. He didn’t care that he was flying too close to the sun. He was ready to see the light of day. He was ready for the truth.

If he were still standing by sundown, surely the stars would lead him home.


End file.
